


Until Golden

by brickmaster



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Background Namixi, Developing Relationship, Dream Eater Riku (Kingdom Hearts), Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Canon Compliant, Pining Sora (Kingdom Hearts), Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:55:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22930582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brickmaster/pseuds/brickmaster
Summary: While they had spent their fair share of time apart and so many things had changed, Riku hadneverbeen one for sweets - that was Sora’s area of expertise. He would partake during a special occasion but for the most part they just didn’t interest him.Nowthough, it was like watching a complete stranger with how much Riku savored each and every bite.(Riku has a sweet tooth fic)
Relationships: Riku/Sora (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 141





	Until Golden

There are nights, quiet and calm, where Sora can’t find any measure of sleep no matter how many pillows or blankets or positions he twists and turns into. The rooms at the tower are spacious, plenty large for a (messy) dresser, a (cluttered) desk, and a (sloppily made) full sized bed so it’s not that he feels cramped or confined in anyway. It’s a restlessness, some thrumming energy along his nerves he can’t shake no matter how hard he tries. Most nights he resigns himself to sitting on his bed and looking out the sun shaped window of his room with his head pillowed on his crossed arms, a blanket tucked around his shoulders with the hope that he’ll succumb to sleep sooner rather than later. 

Tonight though, there’s an itch along his spine that urges him to move, and so he slides out of bed and pads quietly to his door. 

The Tower is never quiet per say - wielders coming in and out from missions in a constant stream, brooms trudging through the winding corridors with their bristles scraping against the stone floor, the ever present hum of magic permeating the air - but Sora takes the time to carefully pull his door closed with a soft click behind him nevertheless. 

The hallways are lit by softly glowing motes of light which float along the ceiling and Sora easily finds his way down the corridor to the spiral staircase. He doesn’t truly have a goal or destination in mind but his heart seems to know what he’s looking for as he begins the descent. 

On the islands, when he would have a nightmare or a restless night like tonight, he would sit in his mom’s kitchen and drink a glass of grapefruit juice. He would cradle the cool drink between his palms and eye the pattern of the trim along the ceiling, mind and body settling after the dozenth peach was traced or counted in between sips. The window was almost always half open, the frame crooked after a storm caused it to warp slightly, and the smell of hibiscus from their garden would carry into the kitchen all hours of the day. Sora remembers that scent permeating everything, the dish towels tucked away in drawers even smelled like it too. 

The Tower smells like nothing and _everything_ , only truly gaining any sort of scent once a specific memory is in mind. Right now, it’s slowly easing into a floral scent and Sora shakes his head and quickens his steps. 

The Tower is _unique_ , to put it lightly. There’s no set layout to the place except for their living quarters which Sora thinks Yen Sid had a hand in after the second week of their stay when they wandered up and down the stairs in exhausted confusion. The Tower has a kitchen, but it’s _never_ in a fixed location. Some days it’s dozens of floors down, others it’s near the roof, and once in a while it manifests in someone’s room as a small kitchenette. Yen Sid explained the how’s and why’s of it all but none of it made any sense to Sora and he tuned out almost immediately. It didn’t truly matter to him how or why or _where_ it popped up. To Sora, it was always a fun scavenger hunt of sorts. 

He descends two more flights, bare feet scuffing slightly against the marble steps, before the staircase forks off into a hallway. Unsure but hopeful, Sora heads down the dimly lit corridor and reaches a large doorway at the end. As he groggily reaches for the doorknob he stops short, a noise sounding from behind the door and giving him pause. Leaning closer, he presses his ear flush against the wood, brows furrowing at the sound of something clinking together. Not sure who else would be up at this hour, but far past caring, he pulls back and swings the door open. 

The kitchen is a pale peach color, a novelty trim along the ceiling with small illustrations of the fruit itself. The cabinets are an off white, tended to but weathered with age on their corners and hinges and the handles are brassy but bright in the low light of two large ceiling lamps suspended above a butchers block. He knows, without looking down, that the soft mat beneath his feet will resemble a watermelon. The ache that spears through Sora’s chest at the sight of his mother’s kitchen is swiftly dashed by the source of the clinking heard through the door. 

Riku is in the kitchen.

Riku is in the kitchen, eyes locked with Sora’s, leaning over the butcher block with a plate of food and a fork suspended in midair in front of his slack mouth. 

They look at each other, the hum of magic the only sound in the air until the small bite of food collected on Riku’s fork falls to the plate with a soft plop. Sora barks out a laugh, the sound blaring in the quiet and he can’t help but clutch his belly as Riku splutters.

“Sor- _Sora!_ What are you doing here?” Riku raises his voice to be heard above Sora’s wheezing and if it’s a little bit shrill, Sora decides it’d be cruel to mention it. Riku’s face is a dark pink, his lip obviously being chewed raw as he grips the fork in his hand tightly.

He forces his giggles to taper off into a hum, cheeks smarting from smiling so hard as he shuffles over to the butcher’s block and mirrors Riku. 

As kids they would run around the butcher’s block, unable to peek over the edge, weaving in and out of the way of Sora’s mother, Kumo. Riku was first to see over the edge after a drawn out growth spurt where it seemed he gained height by the second, Sora following after - like always. 

The kitchen almost feels foreign as he settles his elbows comfortably across the top of the block and leans his chin into his hands, peering up at Riku. Riku has to stoop over now, back curved in order to rest an elbow on the table and when did _that_ happen. He’d grown so much, changed, right out of Sora’s sight and he’s having a hard time reconciling the Riku in front of him with the one who would scramble against the side of the block to reach the edge. 

“-ra? Hey, is everything okay?” 

Sora blinks back into focus and he grins with a lazy nod against his hands. 

“Yup. Couldn’t sleep,” Sora says easily but it has the adverse effect, Riku’s brows furrowing deeply in response.

“Is it the nightmares? Let’s go back to bed. I just need a second and then I’ll make the dive-” Riku picks up the full plate and makes to dispose of it but Sora shoots his hand out to grip Riku’s forearm. 

“No! No, it’s not nightmares I just… couldn’t fall asleep. Too restless or something, I don’t know.” Riku watches him intently, scanning his face for any falsehood - but they don’t lie to each other anymore - and he nods. 

His eyes flick down to Sora’s hand on him and it’s only then that Sora realizes his thumb has been stroking gently across the scar tissue on Riku’s left arm. It feels different against the pad of his thumb but it’s still Riku; soft and strong. Sora meets Riku’s eyes again and he can’t help but smile, his touch unhurried and seemingly welcome because Riku hasn’t made any effort to pull away. It must be a trick of the light, ambient color from the bright walls maybe, or even wishful thinking, but Riku’s cheeks seem to be gaining color again and Sora’s heart stutters.

Riku clears his throat slightly and turns back to Sora fully, dislodging his hand in the process. There’s a little thread of disappointment at the loss of contact but Sora knows, drumming his fingers against the wood, that it was not a rejection. 

They stare at each other quietly, Sora’s head tilting further against his palm, brows rising as Riku just looks at him with a small fork clutched in one hand and a half eaten plate of food in the other. 

“Umm… do you want me to go so you can finish eating?” 

Riku sets the plate down on the table jerkily, the ceramic clanking loudly and Sora bites his lip as that lovely shade of pink darkens. 

Now that he can see it fully, Riku has been eating a tart. It’s golden and glistening in the overhead light and it looks _eerily_ similar to the mango tart his mom would make for special occasions. She cut the sweetness with vanilla bean cream and from this angle, it looks like the Tower made it just the same. Sora liked them but Riku only really had a piece if he absolutely _had_ to which Kumo made sure of. 

“Riku, is that?” 

“Yeah,” he trails off and resumes his original position as if whatever happened between them was something Sora dreamed up. Standing in his _mother’s_ kitchen in the middle of a cosmic tower it just might be. 

He watches Riku scoop up the piece back onto his fork before popping it into his mouth. Riku closes his eyes with a small hum and chews the piece slowly, completely unaware of his response as he takes his time to savor the dessert. Sora’s ears warm at the sight of Riku, never not handsome _Riku_ , sleepily rumpled and happily humming as he eats a piece of their childhood in Kumo’s kitchen. 

Riku blinks his eyes open and Sora starts at the flash of purple there before the next blink is back to green. 

_What... was that?_

Riku quirks his brow at Sora before swallowing and slides the plate between them. “Did you want some?”

For a moment he almost says yes because Kumo’s mango tart was an absolute _treat_ but Riku’s sudden appetite for it is far more filling. Sora shakes his head with a little laugh, the hand against his cheek swaying along with the motion. “Nah, I just came to get-”

“Grapefruit juice,” Riku says it at the same time and his smile is almost unbearably fond as he gathers another piece of tart onto his fork. 

There’s a flutter in Sora’s belly and his lips are curling without his control because Riku _remembered._ But of course he did. Riku’s endlessly thoughtful, endlessly kind, and likely remembers little bits and pieces about _all_ of their friends. Despite the dose of reality, his pulse is still thrumming and he tries to distract himself, and hopefully Riku, by circling the butcher’s block to access the old, round top fridge. 

He turns the hand to pull it open and, wonder of wonders, sitting perfectly in the middle of the top shelf is a glass of grapefruit juice. Sora grabs it and closes the door, traces his steps back around the butcher block while chirping out a _thank you!_ to the Tower. Riku laughs under his breath at the display but once Sora’s settled across from him he says a soft _thank you_ as well. Sora stares intently into the glass clutched between his palms, steadfastly _ignoring_ how they tremble slightly, because Riku had looked at _him_ when he said it. 

Sora takes a long sip, the juice bright and refreshing on his tongue and the smell of hibiscus is even stronger here. He wonders if Riku can smell it too. 

They’re always comfortable around each other - growing up and spending every waking moment together will do that - but there’s this buzz beneath Sora’s skin whenever they’re with each other that’s not unlike the Tower’s ever present hum. It’s like magic and Sora is having a harder and harder time dragging his eyes away from the way Riku’s messy hair absorbs the color of the room, washes him in the soft shades of a sunrise. He’s beautiful and brave and Sora’s in so deep. 

Riku takes another bite of the tart, teeth clicking lightly against the fork, and when his eyes open there’s that brief flash of purple again before it’s gone. Sora’s heart trips at the sight but he very purposefully takes a long sip of juice and watches. 

Another bite, another flash of color. 

Sora sets the glass down with a thunk against the butchers block and leans further over and into Riku’s space, their shadows bleeding together. 

“So… since when do you like mango tart?”

Riku chews slowly, clears his throat slightly after swallowing, “What do you mean?”

Sora props his chin in his hands and glances between the tart and Riku’s curiously dumbfounded face. _That’s… weird._

“ _Well_ , for starters you never _liked_ Mom’s mango tart. You always pawned your slice off on _me._ ”

Riku’s mouth drops open, a comeback no doubt at the ready, only to snap shut shortly after. Sora’s eyebrows are nearly lost in his hairline as Riku just blinks across at him. There’s a little kernel of anxiety in Sora’s chest now because Riku’s almost never caught off guard like this and he looks just as confused as Sora feels.

Riku shakes his head slightly, hums, and scratches the base of his neck which sends his mussed hair fluttering, “I guess… it's grown on me. Every time I can’t sleep I somehow find my way _here._ ”

Sora knows he’s not talking about the Tower’s kitchen itself but the remnant of their childhood sprung into existence around them. Riku’s focus is on the butcher’s block, away from Sora’s eyes and it _stings_. The last time Riku was in his mom’s kitchen they had just tipped over the edge into teenhood and Riku was becoming less and less of a fixture in their house.

Looking at Riku now, loose limbed and soft, he can’t imagine him ever being anywhere else. 

“I’m glad.” It’s out of Sora’s mouth before the thought even formed. Riku’s eyes snap up to his and Sora smiles widely at the little dusting of pink on the shell of Riku’s ears. Riku grins back and picks up his fork to collect another bite. 

“Me too.”

\---

They finish their respective treats and head back to the dorms. Sora had finished his glass of juice relatively quickly but didn’t want to leave Riku’s company. Plus, he wanted more time to observe the strange color change in Riku’s eyes. Even more strange was how Riku scraped up every last piece of the tart from his plate until it was nearly pristine.

It was decidedly _odd._

While they had spent their fair share of time apart and so many things had changed, Riku had _never_ been one for sweets - that was Sora’s area of expertise. He would partake during a special occasion but for the most part they just didn’t interest him. 

_Now_ though, it was like watching a complete stranger with how much Riku savored each and every bite. And with each bite came that flash of color so foreign from the gentle moss green which Sora spent a perfectly normal amount of time thinking about. Yup, perfectly normal. 

“Earth to Sora?”

Sora blinks. They’re outside his bedroom door, Riku’s hands are in his pockets and he’s tipped towards Sora expectantly, brow quirked. Sora decidedly does not take notice of how he has to tilt his head back to meet Riku’s eyes when he answers, “Hi Earth, what’s up?”

Riku snorts at the joke, hand leaving his pocket to cover his mouth as he breaks into full blown laughter and Sora’s chest bubbles with delight. Riku’s eyes are scrunched up, little curves of pale eyelashes and his cheeks are pink beneath the hand across his mouth. Sora giggles and bites his lip, eyes wide as he soaks up Riku’s joy and watches with a somersaulting belly as his laughter mellows into a wide grin. 

“Your jokes are so lame.”

Sora smirks up at him, hands on his hips, “Oh yeah? Who’s the lamer who bust a gut just now?”

Riku’s trying to straighten his mouth but his lips keep twitching and his eyes are sparkling in the dim blue lighting of the hallway. 

“It’s too bad Jiminy isn’t here to set the record straight. This “lamer” sounds like a pretty cool guy, actually.”

Sora chuckles lightly, eyes darting across Riku’s crooked grin and the small mole at the corner of his lips. There’s little else more breathtaking than Riku’s happiness, the only thing better is Riku’s happiness with _him_.

“Yeah, he is…” Sora trails off, heart thumping thunderously because they’re _close_ , toes nearly touching and bodies curved towards each other by the tether of their hearts. He thinks, stare drifting down to Riku’s curled lips, that he’s never going to be able to fall asleep now. 

A door clicks open behind Sora and his pulse skitters as Riku glances over his shoulder and straightens out of their bubble. There’s a sliver of frustration as Sora turns to look and he can’t help the small frown that pinches his face as Terra tries and fails to tiptoe down the hallway unnoticed. He must feel the weight of their attention because he glances over his shoulder with wide eyes. 

“I just needed some water, I didn’t mean to interrupt!” Terra whisper screams to them in the hallway and all the annoyance in Sora’s body flees at the display. 

“No worries. We were just saying goodnight,” Riku says and his voice, low and threaded with latent amusement, carries easily in the quiet corridor. 

Terra waves a bashful goodnight at them as he shuffles towards the stairwell and Riku snorts softly at the sight. Sora meets his eyes again and it could be wishful thinking but there’s tension around his eyebrows that wasn’t there before and what _if-_

“We probably should turn in. I’ve kept you up late enough,” Riku whispers. 

“I would have been up anyway,” Sora shakes his head easily, hair swaying with the motion. 

Riku hums, watching him, but he doesn’t move down the hall towards his room or say anything else. The silence isn’t uncomfortable but Sora’s on edge anyway, always seems to be to an extent whenever they’re together but _alone_. When another beat passes without a sound Sora truly starts to squirm as that ever present buzz hits a fever pitch and he blurts, “You _did_ spend a lot of time though licking your plate clean I mean _really_ , Master Riku?” 

Riku’s cheeks flare and he ducks his head sharply, hand coming up to smother another bout of breathless giggles. His hair, short as it is, has managed to fall forward and Sora can spot the pinkened cuve of his ears poking through. 

_How cute is that?_

Before he can stop himself his hand is reaching out to touch Riku for the second time tonight. He cups Riku’s arm, the skin soft and warm beneath his palm. He swallows heavily as Riku immediately quiets and meets his stare. Sora wets his lips, “I had a really good time tonight. With you.”

Riku’s lips part.

“Sora-“

“I-I’ve missed you. A lot,” Sora’s mouth is off it’s leash and he tries not to clamp down on Riku’s arm as he tries to wrestle control of the conversation back. Riku’s hand covers his own and he smiles, soft.

“I’ve missed you, too.”

Sora’s brows jump and he gives a little breathless smile, hand overly warm and twitching against Riku. Riku squeeze down on his hand gently before dropping his hand back to his side and Sora follows suit. He could stay here, in this moment, forever but Terra’s no doubt lingering in the stairwell to avoid another awkward interaction and his mouth has let loose more than he _ever_ intended to tonight so it’s probably best to quit while he’s ahead. 

Sora throws his hands behind his head, fingers lacing in order to resist reaching out again, and fakes a yawn, “I guess you’re right, we should turn in.”

Riku’s eyes narrow slightly but he shakes his head with a small uptick to his mouth. He moves past Sora, the faintest trace of hibiscus lingering in the air, as he heads to the door to his room near the end of the corridor. Sora watches him go, watches the light motes set his hair shimmering and his breath catches in his chest when Riku looks at him, hand on the doorknob. 

“Sweet dreams, Sora.”

Soft, every inch of him smoothed with contentment and his voice feels like a hand over Sora’s heart. It settles in his veins, every beat gilded with the fondness in that tone and Sora barely stutters out a goodnight as Riku turns the knob and disappears into the still quiet of his own room. 

Sora lingers in the hall, soaks up the warmth left in Riku’s wake for a moment. His heart feels like it’s pressing into his rib cage with how full it is. He places his hand over his heart and tips his head back against his bedroom door, eyes closing. 

_I’ve missed you, too._

Those words sing in his heart and he inhales a steady breath and commits this night to memory. 

There’s a small thud down the hall and a whispered curse. Sora opens his eyes and peeks down the stretch of corridor to see Terra making his way up the last few steps towards the landing. With Riku and their night fresh in his mind he slips into his room and closes it with a click. 

He walks to his bed, arms coming up in a mockery of a dance, as he does a little spin before falling onto the mattress with a breathless smile. His bed is cool against his skin and the sleep shirt and shorts he put on but it’s a nice respite from the warm flush he’s felt all night. He shimmies his legs underneath the sheets and duvet before stuffing his hands beneath his pillow to cradle his head, gaze drifting to the star filled sky outside the Tower. He traces shapes in the scatter of stars, breaths evening out, and he wonders if Riku’s doing the same. 

The night sky is a stunning mix of cool blues and greens and purples and it’s this that has Sora patting around on his nightstand, reaching blindly for his gummiphone. He manages to locate it and cradles it close to his face, squinting as the light from the screen flares in the darkness. Flipping through the various icons he taps on one that looks like a small notebook and scrolls past the old entries. He opens a new note and quickly types out a reminder.

_Watch Riku for more purple eyes. Sweets = purple?_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm not sure when the next chapter will be up but the story _is_ plotted out so hopefully sooner rather than later. 
> 
> twitter @ brickmaster_p


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